


Bubbly

by trenchcoatsanddragons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trenchcoatsanddragons/pseuds/trenchcoatsanddragons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, Dean's changing, but softer skin can feel nicer than calluses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubbly

**Author's Note:**

> So the lyrics in this are from Colbie Caillat's song Bubbly, which you can find here:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FjRyV-Mqh4  
> I don't own any rights to the song, it's just super cute.

Yes, Dean’s changing, but Cas has decided that it’s not entirely a bad thing. The disease it still latched on to his soul, even in his weakened state Cas can sense it, but other parts of Dean are becoming exposed as a result- years of callouses and whiskey and what it means to be a man softening and peeling away as he chooses the music on a drive, in the way he’ll stop drinking his coffee black, in the notes that he hums as he brushes his teeth before going to sleep. All of his hard edges are more visible, sure, but they’re rounding out. It’s in the way Dean smiles in the mornings, softly, like he’s grateful he can still smile at all. It squeezes something in Cas’s chest, but the feeling isn’t entirely unwelcome.  


Cas finds himself spending more time in Dean’s room, too. When Dean’s packing for a hunt, when Dean’s Skyping Charlie, when he’s getting dressed for the first time in days because they’ve run out of milk. Dean doesn’t seem to mind, because he’s never said anything outright to Cas about it, but he hasn’t explicitly told him to stick around, either. Cas will happily take a place in No Man’s Land rather than lose a few yards, though.  


These new developments find Cas chasing the smell of breakfast one morning, too early for Dean to be walking around and too late for Sam to still be out running. He walks down the hallway, ready for a cup or five of coffee, and pauses outside of Dean’s room. The lights on, Dean falls asleep like that more often than not now a days, but someone seems to be moving around in the room. Cas spots shadows sliding from one side of the door to the other, dancing around the floor of the bedroom. Dean must be up.  
He’s just about to continue his trek to the kitchen when Cas hears it, a first note, a soft thrum of what sounds like a guitar string. He freezes, turning back around, canting his head towards the source, curious. A second strum comes soon after, and Cas is frozen on the spot, staring intently at the doorknob while he listens to a gentle riff of acoustic guitar.  
The first hum surprises Cas, widening his eyes as he puts together what he’s hearing. Hums soon morph into actual words, and soon Dean is singing, oblivious to his audience.

I’ve been awake for a while now.  
You’ve got me feeling like a child now.

Cas can’t say that he’s heard the song before, but the lyrics sound sincere when they come from Dean’s lips.

‘Cause every time I see your bubbly face,  
I get the tingles in a silly place.

He thinks of knocking, but he’s rooted to his spot in front of the door.

It starts in my toes,  
And I crinkle my nose,  
Wherever it goes,  
I always know.

Cas finally wills himself to move, pressing his ear up to the door, leaning on the wood. The music sounds like cotton and Dean’s voice sounds like cool water and the clink of his keys in his coat as Cas walks.

That you make me smile,  
Please stay for a while now,  
Just take your time  
Wherever you go.

Cas hears the door creak before he feels it move from under his weight, turning into the room. He curses under his breath, poised to apologize for the intrusion, but the guitar keeps making music, and Dean keeps singing.

The rain is falling on my windowpane.  
But we are hiding in a safer place.

Dean looks up then, smiling. His smile isn’t soft like it is most mornings, nor is it something out of the horror movies Sam loves. Instead it’s harsh, in the best way, as brightness pours and pours and pours from it.  
Sometimes Dean hurts to look at, because he’s too bloodied or bruised for Cas to heal him properly anymore, but every fiber of Cas’s body is screaming that to look away now would be nothing short of heresy.

Under covers staying dry and warm,  
You give me feelings that I adore.

Dean has his head completely up now, shoulders curved towards the instrument in his hands. His voice goes off key every now and again, but it’s fine. Cas doesn’t mind. He’s never really minded. Dean meets his eyes, and Cas doesn’t know how he’s still standing up straight.

I’ve been asleep for a while now  
You tuck me in just like a child now.

Cas doesn’t register moving towards the bed, let alone sitting on the edge of it, too caught up in Dean to make any rational observations. He’s too busy studying the hair matted to one side of his head and the freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose and the way his pillow dips in the middle from where he was sleeping.

Cause every time you hold me in your arms,  
I’m comfortable enough to feel your warmth.

Dean closes his eyes briefly and his smile grows impossibly wider, concave teeth bared for the world to see. There’s a hint of pink crawling up his neck and ears and Cas finds it beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the guitar in his hands and the way he can see the sound waves emanating from the thing and the way Dean’s lips wrap around the words he sings like they’re holy scripture. Cas thinks they may as well be.

And it starts in my toes,  
Makes me crinkle my nose,  
Wherever it goes,  
I always know.

Dean’s eyes meet his again and Cas thinks he might go blind when his eyebrows rise in a gesture that can only be described as happiness.

That you make me smile,  
Please stay for a while now,  
Just take your time,  
Wherever you go.

The song dies in a series of quiet hums, Dean’s fingers slowing gradually on the guitar. There’s only quiet for a few seconds, the two of them just staring at each other, scared to look anywhere but ahead. There’s no tension, there’s no quick breaths, no gasps of surprise or heated moments, really, just a sudden pair of lips under his. Cas smiles because he’s happy, happier than he remembers feeling in thousands of years, and the feelings stretches all the way to his toes.


End file.
